


Whirlwind

by twistedmiracle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, old fic, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-19 00:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/pseuds/twistedmiracle
Summary: Draco captures Harry and drugs him. What now?Not my most serious fiction series, but hopefully fun. COMPLETE as of Nov 19, 2007 and reposted to Ao3 from another archive.





	1. Personal Dungeon

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this fic back in 2007 and posted it to a different archive. I'd forgotten about it! But in the work of going through my livejournal to prepare to move completely over to dreamwidth, I ran across this, and honestly, I think it is adorable. So I've ported it over by hand. hope you like it, too. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Personal Dungeon  
>  50-smutlets Prompt: 016. Magic  
>  Pairing: Harry/Draco  
>  Rating: R  
>  Beta: drgaellon  
>  Warnings: sex, flangst, self-consciously arty title  
>  Word count: approx 1320

. * . * . * .

Harry was in Diagon Alley in mid-July when it happened. Not many people could see through an invisibility cloak, but as it turns out, someone who knew you exceedingly well, someone who was looking for you, hoping beyond hope at every moment to find you, would notice if you made a stupid mistake right in front of them.

" _Stupefy_!"

He woke on what turned out to be a clean, dry pallet in a cell in Draco Malfoy's personal dungeon.

"What am I doing here, Malfoy. What do you want?"

Malfoy sat on the floor outside of the locked metal latticework. His right side leaned against the fourth wall of the cell. "Just… company." 

Even through the haze of a newly worn off _Stupefy_ , Harry knew that was a lie.

Draco's voice was soft. "I'm in hiding. Sort of. Thanks to Severus I've been forgiven, on some level. The Dark Lord, he, wasn't pleased with my failure to… kill. But He was very pleased with my success with those cabinets. Severus told me you knew all about everything. That you were there on the tower when it all happened. Anyway, somehow Severus convinced the Dark Lord to call it a wash, basically. The mark is gone, I'm no longer a Death Eater, but He isn't going to punish me any more than that."

Malfoy took a deep breath and closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the stone. Harry looked at the white, vulnerable expanse of his throat, and waited.

"We're in Malfoy Manor. I'm not to leave except to buy supplies. I only have one house-elf left. The Dark Lord commandeered the rest. I made Mother leave. She's in hiding for real. She never took the Mark, so it's easier for her to hide from him. When the war ends He won't accord me any honor, any credit. But I'll be alive."

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, you actually still think Volde…?"

"Hush! No! You can't say it!"

"Why the hell not, Malfoy? I'm not afraid!"

"But _**I**_ am! Don't you realize he can _**hear**_ it?"

Harry hadn't expected that. "What?"

"He can hear it when anyone says that name. That's why no one wants to say it. People can get away with it inside powerful wards, like those at Hogwarts, but here at the Manor, he would definitely know. He can't know you're here! I'd be dead! So would you!"

"So you aren't going to turn me over to him for the, what did you call it? Honor and credit?"

Malfoy turned his head and glared weakly at Harry through miserable, hopeful eyes. "Hell no, Potter. You're mine now. He can't have you. Eat your chocolates, will you? I bought them special, just for you. And have some water. Here." Then Draco took a deep swallow from a tall, narrow carafe of water. "See? It's safe. It's clean and pure." He carefully pushed the carafe through a slim space in the latticed metal wall. It barely fit.

. * . * . * .

It took almost two days, but eventually he ate the chocolates he knew Malfoy had surely drugged. But he was so painfully hungry. So empty. Not thirsty, as that water was so clean, so clear, that he almost might have believed it safe even if he hadn't watched Malfoy drink from it himself.

Harry wasn't stupid. He knew those chocolates were dosed with something. When he finally grew too hungry to resist them, he wondered vaguely through his ravenous haze what they might do to him. What sort of potion would Malfoy want to force him to ingest? After he'd given in and devoured half the box, he finally realized what it was.

He should have guessed from the attractive little triple "w" pattern on the bottom of each chocolate, really. 

Suddenly he was foolishly, insanely, magically in love with Draco Malfoy.

. * . * . * .

Draco must have had some sort of alarm on the chocolates, because he walked around the corner with a small plate of sandwiches as Harry finished stuffing the eighth one in his chocolate-smeared mouth.

Malfoy looked slightly dazed, but he didn't unlock the door immediately. He waited for Harry's reaction.

"Malfoy? Draco?" Harry tried to sit up. "Draco! Let me out! I need to kiss you! Will you let me kiss you? Please?"

Draco looked slightly wary. "Have a sandwich first, Harry. Then we'll talk about whether or not you can come out."

Harry looked dazed. "Sandwich? Will you feed it to me? I feel so, er, tired?"

Draco looked uncomfortable. "You are just worn out from being so hungry, Harry. Here. You should eat a sandwich." He levitated the plate sideways through the bars of Harry's cell and then levitated the sandwich halves over to drop gently onto the plate. Harry looked confused, but he picked up half a sandwich and took a bite. 

Harry slowly ate all three sandwiches. Halfway through, his eating slowed and his begging picked up. Finally Draco relented, and he opened the cell door. Harry wasted no time. He stumbled through and fell into Draco's arms, kissing him. Draco moaned softly, kissing Harry deeply and stroking his dirty hair. 

"Come upstairs with me, Harry. You need a bath."

"Will you wash my back?" Despite his lessening stupor, Harry managed to instill the question with innuendo.

Draco smiled shyly. "Hell, yes, I'll wash your back, Harry."

. * . * . * .

The next three days passed in a cloud of sex and kisses, good food and deeply restful sleep. The boys left Draco's bed only to eat at a table by his window, bathe, or use the toilet. Harry couldn't seem to get enough of Draco's hair when they were vertical, but when they were horizontal he couldn't get enough of Draco's cock. They fed each other melting chocolates, and Draco's ancient house-elf brought them tea and sandwiches when they got too hungry to wait any longer.

Draco usually looked at Harry with a face filled with wonder and barely concealed disbelief. Particularly when Harry would, yet again, vehemently declare his love for Draco.

Harry usually looked at Draco with a face filled with tenderness and lust. He seemed to primarily delight in throwing Draco off guard, such as the night he eschewed eating his meal in favour of learning how to deep throat Draco from under the table next to the window. Draco eventually gave up pretending to eat his dinner. He laid his head on the table and keened his overstimulated pleasure.

. * . * . * .

"What do you want?" Draco asked Harry on their fourth day out of the dungeon. He dabbed a bit of chocolate from the side of Harry's cheek. The tenderness on his face would have embarrassed him, if he had been aware of it.

Harry was certain, looking into Draco's eyes at that moment, that if he asked permission to leave, it would be granted.

"I want your cock inside my body all the time, constantly, to be underneath you and to hold you inside me and for you to never ever let me go."

. * . * . * .

Draco hated to fall asleep, but of course he did anyway. Harry kept him ricocheting between intense lust and exhaustion.

Harry flicked empty chocolate wrappers from the bed and checked that Draco was sleeping soundly. Then he whispered "Kreacher!" His reluctant house-elf popped in immediately and Harry made a silencing motion. His whispered commands did not disturb Draco's sleep.

"Tell Ron and Hermione that I'll be on holiday a little while longer. Come to me as soon as Hermione figures out how to destroy that locket we found. And go tell them both of those things immediately, without stopping, and without changing my message. Do you understand?"

"Kreacher understands," The house-elf grumbled quietly before he vanished.

Harry snuggled closer to Draco's back, and blissfully unaware, Draco rolled over and curled into Harry's borrowed warmth.


	2. So Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they belong to the clever Scottish lady. I just bend them and love them. Please don't smack me for playing. It isn't like I am going to earn any money from this!   
> 50-smutlets Prompt: 047. Silk Sheets  
> Claim: All Slytherins  
> Pairing: Harry/Draco  
> Rating: R  
> Beta: 13_moons and DrGaellon  
> Warnings: sex, flangst

. * . * . * .

Three days later, Harry and Draco were about to sit down to breakfast, when Kreacher popped in and nearly gave Draco a heart attack.

"What the fuck!" Draco yelled, as he tried to jump out of his chair.

Harry sighed. He'd known this would have to happen eventually, but he'd rather hoped Draco would be asleep when Kreacher returned. At least they hadn't been having sex.

"What is it, Kreacher?" Harry sighed, resting his head in one hand, his elbow on the table.

"Master" - Kreacher filled the word with venom - "asked me to-"

Draco got his voice back and abruptly interrupted Kreacher. "You know this house-elf?" Draco's voice was as imperious as Harry had ever heard it.

"He's mine, actually." Harry made a face that - he hoped - clearly expressed his disgust.

"Why do you have a house-elf?" Draco sounded quite uncaring, but Harry was almost certain the other boy was upset.

Harry thought he could see worry and confusion behind Draco's plastered-on mask of indifference. He knew it would take a while to reassure Draco - now that it was obvious that Kreacher had already been in the Manor - and that Harry had been planning, possibly even scheming, behind Draco's back. Still, he had to start at the beginning. With both Draco _and_ Kreacher.

"When Sirius, my godfather that is, er, died, he left me everything. Including Kreacher here." Harry still hated to talk about Sirius' death, and he couldn't stop himself from sighing quietly.

Draco stared silently at Harry and sat all the way back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring with annoyance. Harry chose to ignore him for a moment in order to speak to the elf. "Kreacher. Tell me what's going on with Ron and Hermione."

Kreacher nearly spat the words. "Master asked me to return when _those two_ learned how to destroy the precious object that filthy Mudbloods should not touch."

Harry didn't like the inflection in Kreacher's voice and was about to chastise him for almost insulting Ron and Hermione, when Draco broke in, sounding desperately hurt. "You… you've been in contact with your elf for how long?"

"Not right now, Draco," Harry said as gently as he could. Then he turned to Kreacher. "Do they need my help to destroy it?"

"They said they do not need Master yet, but they eagerly wish Master's return." Then he dropped his volume and muttered, still perfectly audible, "Filth calls to filth, I suppose."

Draco looked appalled. "Kreacher must not speak to his master in such a way! Kreacher is a very, very bad elf! Go punish yourself!"

Harry winced, and Kreacher looked desperately torn. He obviously wanted to obey Draco, the pure-blood Malfoy heir. He knew he wasn't actually entitled to, however. 

"Draco, he…." Harry trailed off helplessly. He despised Kreacher, but telling the elf to punish himself went against Harry's grain.

Draco, on the other hand, clearly felt more at ease, now that he felt he understood something about what was going on in his room. "He _what_? He's got a horrible mouth on him! You should not be letting him get away with that! It makes me wonder what else you've let him get away with!"

That actually stung, and Harry turned away from Draco. "Kreacher," Harry said. "Tell Ron and Hermione I'll be there before dinner tonight." He stole a glance at his lover's face and saw that Draco looked profoundly indignant. "After… after you obey Draco."

Kreacher gave Draco a worshipful look, and then ran headlong into the wall. The boys watched him stagger, give a shallow bow in their general direction, and then vanish silently.

Harry shivered with discomfort, but he could see that Draco looked both pleased and slightly uncertain. Perhaps it bothered him to displease Harry. 

"I suppose," Harry said, staring at the tablecloth and drawing idle figure eights on it with a fingertip, "that I should explain." He was still facing the room, not Draco. He looked up just enough to see Draco sit back in his chair, crossing his arms defensively across his narrow chest.

"I think it is long past time for an explanation," Draco replied.

"Do you remember our fourth year, Draco?" Harry looked up at Draco's face.

Draco nodded, a look of slight confusion on his face. Harry sighed. He felt the need to explain like a worm in his belly. He didn't want to hurt Draco's feelings, but Draco wanted to know, and it really was past time to get this all out and clear.

"Remember when our Defense teacher put us all under _Imperius_?"

Suddenly Draco looked wary, confused, resigned. He shifted in his chair.

"Love potions are an awful lot like _Imperius_ , aren't they?"

Draco nodded and sipped miserably at his cooling tea. Harry turned to face him again. He braced his hands at the table's corners and took a deep breath. This wasn't fun, but Draco was intelligent. He was figuring it out and Harry was grateful not to have to explain in great detail.

"Draco, those chocolates stopped working as soon as I wasn't starving and exhausted anymore. But you know, that means I've been here-" he reached forward across the table and captured one of Draco's reluctant hands. "-of my own free will. For about a week. Just because I wanted to be here. With you."

Draco tried to pull his hand from Harry's, but it didn't quite work, and he sat stiffly, one hand still in Harry's grasp. He looked nervously at their hands, licked his lips once, fumbled with his teacup but then chose not to pick it up.

"That's… that's not possible," he finally replied.

"Yes, Draco. It is. I've been…on holiday. With you. It's been wonderful." Inspiration suddenly flashed across Harry's face. "Let me prove it. Call Bodely to put silk sheets on your bed. I told Ron and Hermione not to expect me until evening. Let me make love to you all day until it's time for me to go."

Draco looked uncertain as he began to speak. "I can admit that I want that Harry, but you have to explain this to me first. I can wait a little while to come again. I think…" he blushed a bit and Harry wanted to kiss him. "I think I must have come five times just yesterday."

"What do you want to know?" Harry could not resist stroking the fingers of Draco's hand. 

Draco looked down at their fingers coiled together, two of Harry's fingers stroking suggestively down Draco's forefinger.

"I've wanted you… for a long time, Harry. I understand that part, that part is mine. How did you come to… want me?"

Harry leaned forward across the table and pushed a few dishes out of the way to get even closer to Draco. He didn't let go of Draco's hand. "I don't have any idea when it started to grow in me, Draco. I was completely oblivious. But I knew as soon as those chocolates started to affect me that they weren't the only reason I wanted to snog you. Somewhere in my gut, I already wanted to get to know you better, find out why the hell you acted the way you did, why you dropped your wand instead of killing Dumbledore."

Draco stared at Harry in dismay.

"I was there, under my Invisibility Cloak and some sort of Freezing Charm Dumbledore cast on me. So I know you tried, that you had him wandless, but you still couldn't kill him." 

"I know all that," Draco replied. "I just don't like thinking about it."

Harry took a deep breath. "Did you know I'd been following you all year?"

Draco nodded. "When you started off the year by following me into my train compartment, it was easy to figure out that you never stopped. So sorry… about your nose, by the way." Draco now looked desperately sheepish.

"Well, I'm sorry about, you know, almost killing you in that bathroom." Harry really didn't know what to do with his hands now and he started to pull away.

Draco held on. "Harry, I tried to cast an Unforgiveable at you. You're allowed to defend yourself."

Harry looked miserable. "I could have fucking cast _Stupefy_. It's a shorter word, even. I wasn't thinking." He looked at their hands and whispered, "I almost killed you."

"Yes, well, you didn't, and that's what really matters, isn't it?" Draco's tone was almost dismissive and made a generous wave over his chest. "Thanks to Snape and Pomfrey there isn't even a scar. Now. Stop avoiding the question. I want to hear the rest of how you ended up willingly sharing my bed, Potter." Draco sounded a little annoyed.

"So it's Potter again, is it? Fine. I…" Harry was surprised by how hurt he felt by something as simple as the name Draco called him. He realized that the way Draco said it, the way Harry _heard_ it, it sounded - and felt - like a rejection.

"No. No, it's Harry still." Draco looked alarmed as he tried to soothe Harry's feelings. "I shouldn't have… just - tell me the rest, Harry, please?" Draco sounded a bit upset now, and Harry was appalled at the vicious little twist of pleasure he felt at making Draco worry over him and his feelings.

Harry put his other hand around Draco's; holding tightly to Draco's left with both of his own. "The love potion you gave me wore off slowly. I started to realize, over about two days, that I didn't want to leave. That I liked being here with you, that I absolutely loved having sex with you-" despite everything they'd done together, saying this brought a prickling heat to Harry's cheeks and he took a breath to try and lessen it, "-but also, that I… I'd started to care about you a lot. I wanted you to be safe, I wanted you to be… in my arms. In my bed. I knew…." 

Harry took a deep breath, trying to say this without hurting himself or Draco. He tried to sound mature and resigned and realistic. "I know I can't have that for real, Draco, but I can hardly express how glad I am that I could have this little holiday here with you. The thing is, now I have to get back and fight the war. You got hold of me at a really convenient time, ironically enough. Hermione's been busy with something I couldn't help her with and staying here didn't mean much as far as the war effort went. But now, they need me again and I have to go back."

Draco looked sad, then tried to hide his expression behind a mask. It worked very poorly.

"Draco, surely you didn't expect to keep me here for the rest of the war? I know that you believe V-, I mean, your father's master is going to win, but did you really think you could hide me from him forever, even if I never developed a tolerance for those love chocolates?"

"I suppose," Draco sighed, still looking at the tablecloth, "that I simply refused to think that far ahead. I saw your trainer flash under your Invisibility Cloak in Diagon Alley and I _Stupefied_ you without even thinking. I stuffed you in a deserted doorway, bought those chocolates from Weasley's Wheezes, Side-Alonged you into my dungeon and played it all by ear. I just… I wanted you. I was lonely, I wanted company, but there is no one I wanted here more than you. And I want you to stay."

Draco's emotions were all over the place. Harry realized Draco had been haughty, petulant, dismissive and desperate all in the course of this short conversation. He wasn't sure how many emotions he himself had experienced, for that matter. But Harry knew he wanted, at the very least, to reassure Draco of the truth of Harry's feelings.

"Draco, Draco." Harry gripped Draco's hand harder. "I can't stay with you here forever. You know that. But I can stay for a few more hours. Can we make the best of them?"

"I can't convince you to stay?"

"I have to fight him, Draco. I have to destroy him or die trying."

Draco blanched. He was already so pale that it made him look ill. "Don't die, Harry. Don't die." Harry was surprised at the new, raw neediness in Draco's tone.

"I don't intend to, Draco, but, this is a war. Come on. Call Bodely. Put the nice sheets on for me. Let me show you how I feel about you, about your body." Harry rose from the table and dropped his voice. "About your body with my body."

Draco flushed and called, "Bodely!"

Bodely appeared and bowed very slowly. 

"Silk sheets, please. On my bed. Now."

Bodely straightened from his slow bow and popped out, then reappeared with a stack of slippery fabric in his little arms. The fabric levitated from his hold and Harry watched - still fascinated by magic even after nearly seven years - as Bodely changed the sheets without touching them or the bed. It happened quickly, and Bodely popped out again with the dirty sheets.

Harry stood and pulled Draco into his arms. He said nothing, just kissed Draco's neck and started to unbutton Draco's shirt.

Draco pulled away and stared greedily, searchingly into Harry's face. Harry wondered what he was looking for.

Draco's voice was both haughty and insecure. "I'm going to top you, Harry. I'm going to make love to you so thoroughly that you will feel me in your arse for days. I'm going to be looking you deeply in the eyes when you come. You'll remember today for the rest of your life."

In response, Harry simply answered, "I'm yours until evening, Draco. Show me what that means."

Draco stripped him bare and carried him to the bed. He fulfilled every promise he'd made and made more. Then, unable to stop himself, Draco fell asleep. Harry lingered in awareness for a few minutes, resting happily in his lover's arms until he dropped into sleep as well.

. * . * . * .

It was Bodely that woke them that evening. The house-elf was, of course, unaware of the change in Harry's plans, and brought enough food for two, setting the table as nicely as always and then gently waking the sleeping lovers.

"Don't leave me, Harry." Draco held tightly onto Harry's chest, burying his head under Harry's chin.

"I have to go, Draco." Harry stroked his lover's back slowly with the flat of his hand. "You know that. I have a responsibility."

"Fuck that. Stay here with me. I'll… I'll let you top me." He blushed into Harry's arm, but Harry could still see it. It was truly delightful.

Harry squirmed a bit so he could nuzzle Draco's neck and reach for Draco's cock. Harry was getting hard but Draco was already there. As he spoke, he stroked his lover's erection gently. "Before, when you fell asleep, I was thinking. I could… I could visit again. When there's a lull."

Draco happily accepted Harry's attention. "A lull? That sounds good to me. But, how would you get in here?" 

"Apparition?" Harry teased the head of Draco's cock with his fingertips.

"The wards-" Draco was gasping slightly "-wouldn't allow that."

"A Portkey?" Harry kissed the side of Draco's neck.

"Unauthorized?" Draco breathed.

"Well, it would have to be, wouldn't it? Are you willing to risk that? Because I am." Harry gave Draco's cock a long, hard stroke to emphasize.

"So, it isn't really-" Draco gasped again from the sensations, "-goodbye at all, then?"

"No, it's 'so long', or 'see you later,' all right?"

"Yes, Harry. Yes."

Harry knew he'd have a devil of a time explaining this to Ron and Hermione, but as Draco's mouth slipped over the head of his cock, he decided he just didn't care.

. * . * . * .

Harry dumped his Invisibility Cloak on the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. Ron glared at him and Hermione's look of disapproval could have taken McGonagall aback. "I'm sorry I'm a little later than I said I would be, but I'm here now. And whether you like it or not, I really needed this holiday. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go put my Invisibility Cloak away." 


	3. Alone and Eager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: "Alone and Eager" - Fandom: Harry Potter - Claim: The Slytherins - Prompt: 026 (On Camera)
> 
> Title: Alone and Eager  
> Author: twisted miracle  
> Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they belong to the clever Scottish lady. I just bend them and love them. Please don't smack me for playing. It isn't like I am going to earn any money from this!  
> 50-smutlets Prompt: 026. On Camera  
> Claim: All Slytherins  
> Pairing: Harry/Draco  
> Rating: R  
> Beta: 13_moons  
> Warnings: sex  
> Word count: approx 1220

. * . * . * .

Hermione had indeed figured out a way to destroy the locket horcrux, and that process occupied the trio for nearly two days as it involved a potion and quite a few precautions in the form of magical barriers and physical, Muggle barricades. None of them wanted to end up with a blackened, dying arm like Dumbledore somehow had.

Once the Slytherin horcrux was completely destroyed, they all retreated to their beds and slept for many hours. Harry had been tempted to sneak off to Malfoy Manor and Draco's bed, but he knew he wouldn't get much sleep if that happened, and he needed to rest. So, sighing at how mature he was forcing himself to be, he slept alone at Grimmauld Place. Still, it gave him an idea.

The trio had finished their sixth year in need of three horcruxes. Dumbledore had destroyed the Gaunt ring; Harry had destroyed the diary; Nagini was to be left for next-to-last; and one improbable sliver of soul was - presumably - still lodged in Voldemort. Hard to believe someone like him could have anything like a soul anymore, but that was the theory.

Now that they (hopefully) only needed to find two more objects, Harry wanted to split the task and get it done faster, if that were possible. He sent Ron and Hermione to Hogwarts, to suss out what in Dumbledore's office Riddle might have managed to curse while trying to wangle the DADA job. Harry had never forgotten how he'd felt as he watched that memory with Dumbledore. He felt certain that - since McGonagall knew his role in the war - she would allow them free reign to search.

Harry decided to begin his search for Hufflepuff's cup in as likely a place as any: Malfoy Manor.

. * . * . * .

After a nervous detour through a small shop in Muggle London, he walked to a deserted alleyway and checked to make sure his new toy was safely packed away in foam and cardboard and tucked gently into his knapsack. He really didn't want it to break. He had plans for it!

Then, checking again to make sure no Muggles could see him, he put on his Invisibility Cloak and Portkeyed into a warded spot in the corner of Draco's bedroom. This was just what he and Draco had planned, and he could feel the subtle magics protecting him from attack, but Harry couldn't help but be nervous. Draco held a corresponding gadget that would alert him to Harry's use of the portkey. What if Draco had been forced to accept an audience with Voldemort? He would almost certainly have been forced to tell everything, if Voldemort hadn't simply ripped it out of his mind. Harry was an invited guest, but he was still in a dangerous place.

Harry eased his knapsack off his shoulder and put it on the floor, one strap still in his hand. Then he hefted his wand in his hand and waited for his lover.

Draco wasn't safe here, not really, and therefore neither was Harry. Still, where was Harry really safe? Probably nowhere. Malfoy Manor wasn't much more dangerous than anywhere else, really. Still, Harry waited for Draco just as he'd arrived - silent and well-hidden. He hoped.

A few painfully long minutes passed.

Harry was deeply relieved to see that Draco entered the room both alone and eager. Surely if the place was stuffed full of Death Eaters he wouldn't have been **both** of those.

"Harry? Are you here? I can't remember exactly which corner I set the Portkey for." Draco put his hands on his hips and glared at the wrong corner of the room. "Don't make me come looking for you, Harry."

Harry wanted to giggle at how very stereotypically gay his sweetheart looked. Then he wondered if he had mannerisms like that and sobered. He let go of the knapsack strap, threw off the cloak and stood, wincing a bit. He'd been squatting - wand ready - for a little longer than he'd realized.

Draco rushed him. "Harry!"

Harry's desire to tease evaporated. He opened his arms and hurried toward Draco. "I missed you," he murmured into Draco's hair. Then they were a twist of arms and flung clothing and kisses as they moved awkwardly to the bed, stripping themselves and each other.

Soon Harry was underneath Draco, his legs and arms were wrapped around Draco, Draco's cock was filling him, so deep in his arse, and Draco's mouth was kissing, plundering his own and Draco's hands were gripping him and Draco was coming and he was coming and fucking hell it was good to be back.

. * . * . * .

After an hour's nap, Harry began to search the Manor very thoroughly, taking notes and drawing diagrams to make sure he didn't miss any rooms. When Draco woke, he helped. There were some secret spots Draco helped him find, but the Cup was not, apparently, anywhere in the Manor. Harry was annoyed and tired, but he wasn't leaving without trying his new toy.

He broached the topic over dinner.

"I bought something on my way here, Draco. I missed you so while I was gone, and I wanted to try to do something to help me deal with missing you."

Draco nodded and chewed his dinner, clearly awaiting an explanation.

"Do you know what an instamatic camera is, pet?"

. * . * . * .

After an hour, they'd exhausted all of the special film that Harry had purchased along with his new instant camera. Draco had been disappointed at first that the pictures didn't move, but he'd quickly decided he could live with that. He promised to store his half of the photos in a heavily warded box that his mother had given him as an eleventh birthday present. Narcissa had promised Draco that no one could open it but him.

Harry couldn't stop looking at his pictures. He lay in Draco's arms, Draco's half-hard cock rubbing pleasantly against his back, and sighed and wriggled and moaned over the lovely photos. Much to Draco's satisfied amusement.

There were pictures of Draco wanking, Draco coming - his grimace ecstatic and his belly covered in spunk, Draco's cock very close up, Draco's cock emerging from Harry's arse, Draco's smirk as he stood, completely nude, in front of the messed up bed, and many of Draco hard and posing seductively, just for Harry. Harry had enough wank material to last a month. But if he had to admit it to himself, it wasn't enough, and it certainly didn't compare to the real thing.

He turned halfway around to look at Draco and kissed him, then gathered his courage to speak.

"I'll tell you honestly, Draco. I was really scared to Portkey in here. What if old Noseless Wonder had shown up and you'd been forced to tell him that I'd been here? What if it was a trap? That's why I've been meaning to ask you something." Harry took a deep breath and put his hand gently on Draco's cheek. He opened his mouth to say more, then closed it and kissed Draco whisper-gentle on the temple. Then he finally said the words he'd been thinking throughout the visit. "Draco, come back with me."


	4. Vulnerable Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Vulnerable Places  
> Author: twisted miracle  
> Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they belong to the clever Scottish lady. I just bend them and love them. Please don't smack me for playing. It isn't like I am going to earn any money from this!   
> 50-smutlets Prompt: 033. Lips  
> Claim: All Slytherins  
> Pairing: Harry/Draco  
> Summary: Can Harry convince Draco?  
> Rating: R  
> Beta: owensmom  
> Warnings: sex  
> Word count: approx 1085

If Draco hadn't been pressed to the bed by a naked Harry resting between his legs and on his chest, he'd probably have jumped up and rushed to the other side of the room. 

"Come back with you? Are you mad?"

Harry tried to defuse the situation. "Probably," he replied, wearing a large smile and still twisting around to look his sweetheart in the face. "Hear me out anyway?"

Harry turned and pulled at Draco and squirmed around until they were both on their sides, lying down and looking one another in the eyes. Harry knew it probably wasn't the fairest thing to do, but he stroked Draco's side teasingly as he spoke.

"Here's the thing, Draco. I want him to lose because that's the only way I can win and move on with my life. So I want you to help me beat him. Help me make that happen faster. And I don't mean I want you to be a soldier and risk your life all the time, that's not what I am asking. I just… want you to be there, with me, keeping my bed warm and giving me all sorts of reasons to smile. That's more than enough for me. If you want to be a soldier, a hero, great. I wouldn't presume to stop you from grabbing whatever sorts of… honor and credit I think you called it, that you want to reach for."

Draco gave Harry a look of disdain so Harry barreled on, hoping to find an argument that would work.

"Plus, as happy as I would be to have you with me in my house, if you stay here I'll be worrying just that much about you here, alone and vulnerable in this place. He knows exactly where you are, love. If he decides to check on you he'll find out you had me here. He'll pull the pictures of us together out of your mind before he even finishes walking into the house, Draco. You know he's a crack Legilimens. When he sees that you didn't give me to him he will-" Harry tried to speak in a normal tone but it came out choked and quiet anyway "-torture and kill you. Then he'll wait for me to show up here for a visit and he'll kill me, too."

Draco swallowed and closed his eyes, but he didn't say anything, so Harry kissed his sweetheart's shoulder and kept working to get him to come back to Grimmauld Place. Harry's voice stayed a bit quieter and less confident than he would have liked, but he couldn't stop talking.

"Draco, he's insane and it isn't safe for you here. You haven't been safe since the moment you captured me and didn't bring me to him. Even though he doesn't know I'm here, he knows _you_ are here. He could decide at any moment that he didn't punish you enough and you need to die or suffer or what have you. Your mother isn't here, she's safe where she is, so you aren't staying for her. Bodely can come along if you like - actually, we really ought to take him for his own safety and then he can teach Kreacher to be a better elf."

Harry pressed a little closer to Draco and kissed the side of his mouth. Draco turned - seemingly instinctively - into the kiss, but neither of them opened their mouths. Harry dropped his voice to be even quieter.

"Be with me," he told his lover. "You are good for me. But also, you're so bored and lonely here all by yourself. Come be with me. I want you to be with me. I'd like it very much if that, all by itself, were enough."

Draco flipped Harry onto his back and pressed his hard cock into Harry's scrotum. "Perhaps it is," he finally answered, and then he grabbed his cock and found Harry's already lubricated opening by rubbing around Harry's perineum with the head of his erection.

"Fuck me," Harry breathed. "Tell me later if it means yes or it means goodbye. Right now I really need you to fuck me."

Draco looked Harry in the eye and Harry saw fear there, and hope. He also saw lust and something that looked almost like gloating. _I can be Slytherin too_ , Harry decided, and he did his best to exploit Draco's baser feelings.

"You've got me, now. Why don't you keep me? Why don't you let me take you home and you can show Ron and Hermione how you can reduce me to mush? Kiss me in my kitchen, Draco. Fuck me in my front hallway."

"You sneaky bastard," Draco hissed, and he pushed his cock into Harry's arse in a jagged thrust that left them both panting.

"Whatever… works," Harry managed to say, and then he stopped talking and started moaning. 

Even though he was on his back underneath Draco and looked not to be the one in charge, Harry made sure - with kisses and dirty talk and squeezing and angle changes - that Draco's orgasm was as unforgettable as possible.

After Draco could breathe normally again, he propped himself up on an elbow and gave Harry a wry, annoyed little smirk.

"I suppose you think you're awfully clever, don't you, pet?"

"I'm doing what I can, Draco. You would too, in my position." Harry couldn't help but blush a bit as he spoke, but he looked at Draco from underneath his lashes and hoped the overall effect was charming, not pathetic.

"You've thought this idea through properly?" Draco finally asked.

"No, I'm sure I haven't," Harry answered with a reckless smile.

"Your friends will cope?" Draco pressed.

"They'll probably completely lose it, actually." Harry answered with a shrug.

"There's a place for me in your house, and I don't mean your bed?" 

"Nope, not really." Harry admitted. "No one is going to know what to do with you, everyone will think I'm completely crazy, they'll all accuse you of being a spy for your father's side and me of being a complete slave to my cock. And Draco?"

Draco waited, looking Harry in the eye.

"I don't care." Harry gave Draco the smile that almost always worked, even on Hermione, even on McGonagall. "Please, come home with me anyway. By and large it's just me, Ron and Hermione there. You won't usually have to deal with anyone but us. And Bodely will be there, and-"

"Yes."

"Oh fuck, you mean it?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Harry." Draco said. Harry was pretty sure Draco's stern tone was for show.


	5. Sweet Cheeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 50_smutlets prompt: 049. Candles  
> Genre: romance, fluff, boy-sex  
> Beta: scrtkpr  
> Warnings: this series is about as serious as snack food. (And a tip of the pen to Samael for the metaphor).
> 
> . * . * . * .

It took unnervingly long for Draco and Bodely to pack their necessities and lock up the Manor. Now that Harry had managed to convince Draco to leave, it seemed inevitable that Voldemort would show up just as they were leaving. Harry was vibrating like a sugared-up four-year-old by the time the three of them were ready to walk out the front gate.

Nonetheless, the three of them got everything - and everyone - important out of the Manor and off to Grimmauld Place. They managed to get into the house without waking the portrait of Sirius' mother as well, which was a real blessing. It was past two in the morning by then, and Ron and Hermione were surely fast asleep. If Mrs. Black had started screaming, they'd have been about as likely to die of shock as they would have been to rush downstairs, wands outstretched and ready for battle.

Harry called for Kreacher to put everything away and make Bodely at home. He could almost relax now that they were in such a safe house, even if he suddenly had less idea than ever before of what the future held for him. And for them. 

Harry whispered a last instruction that he hoped Draco had not heard. It looked like he'd managed to be quiet enough, as Draco gave him a quizzical look that Harry answered with only a sly smile. He could only hope that Kreacher wouldn't fuck up.

They went to the kitchen for a small snack, then Harry gave Draco a rather abbreviated tour of the two lower floors of the house. Finally, they made it to the large bedroom Harry used on the fourth floor, and when Harry opened the door to welcome Draco to his new home, he was tremendously relieved to see that Kreacher had followed his instruction admirably. Probably the capable obedience was all for Draco, but as Harry had wanted this welcome all for Draco, he hardly cared.

The room was full of lit white candles. Some were floating in the air, and the rest were scattered around on top of every flat surface above the floor. They gave off the only light in the room, and the effect was romantic and pretty and better than Harry had hoped for.

"Welcome to Grimmauld Place, Draco." Harry felt himself blush and then felt perfectly ridiculous. After everything he and Draco had been through in this whirlwind wartime romance, a bedroom full of candlelight should hardly give Harry reason to blink, let alone blush. 

Draco took a step into the room and looked around, his face passive, his eyes wide. "For me?" he asked simply. Then he stopped himself, still not really looking at Harry. "Of course it's for me, I'm being silly. It's lovely, Harry. I hadn't pegged you as a romantic."

"Well, it's not quite like _Stupefy_ , drugs, and a dungeon, but…" Then Harry stopped and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Fuck, let me try that again," he mumbled miserably through his fingers.

Somehow, thankfully, when Draco turned on his heel and looked at Harry, he was amused. "This relationship is hardly conventional, is it Harry? Still, as long as you really do want me here for romance, and not just to save my cute, round arse, I'm glad I came. I love the candles. They're perfect. Now I want to shag you."

Terrified of what idiotic nonsense he might come out with if he spoke, Harry nodded his head in silent gratitude.

"Take off everything, Harry. Strip yourself naked for me. Then kneel in front of me and open my clothes just enough to suck my cock."

Harry was already throwing his clothes on the floor before Draco finished giving the instructions. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt about Draco giving him orders, but after what he'd said, he was primarily just grateful that Draco wasn't storming out to sleep on the library floor. And sucking his lover's cock was no hardship. It was amazing how it felt on his tongue, in his mouth and hands. Harry felt his mouth water and his brain shut down as he knelt in front of Draco and tried to find that erection he knew was hiding from him in there under Draco's robes and trousers and underwear.

It didn't take long before Draco gave up on him and got his own clothing out of the way, and soon afterwards Harry was happily tonguing the heavy vein on the underside of Draco's cock and seeing how much of Draco's cock he could fit in his mouth from this position. His knees hurt a bit, however, so he was very glad when a few minutes later Draco pulled away and started ripping at his own clothes. Harry leapt onto the bed and winced at the ominous creak. He looked forward to the day when the war was over and he could redecorate this old dump. Or - even better - sell the entire place, furniture and all, and start fresh.

Good lord, he was lying on his bed, legs spread, stroking an erection that could hammer nails and waiting for his boyfriend to fuck him through to the basement, and all the while he was contemplating decorating ideas. How fucking gay _was_ he now, anyway? 

He grabbed a jar of lube and tried not to whine. "Draco, I'm turning into some sort of stereotype. I need you to come fuck me."

Draco was sitting on the edge of the bed, wrestling his last sock off. "Just a second… there!" Draco finally pounced on him. "Can't believe I'm here…." He breathed into Harry's neck. "Can't believe I did this…."

"Well, you did. And I am going to make sure you don't regret it. You want me to ride you? Because I think that's what I want tonight."

Draco rolled underneath Harry and grabbed his lover's hips in his hands. "I want you to do what I tell you to, will you do that for me?"

"Tonight, I will do anything you want. It's your reward for coming here with me."

"Mmmm," Draco hummed happily. His smile was as bright as a candle. "Then sit on my cock as slowly as you possibly can. Hold me down. Don't let me fill you any faster."

Harry smiled in a way he thought had to be somewhat predatory and braced his weight on with his knees on the mattress and his hands on Draco's waist. Then he wriggled around until he could feel that the head of Draco's delicious cock was poking him in just the right spot. Harry concentrated hard on relaxing and sliding in exactly the right direction, but he slipped off the head of Draco's cock a few times before finally managing to open himself up with his lover.

It was quite a struggle to sit on Draco slowly. Harry had quickly learned to adore the sensations of bottoming. Something about Draco's cock, or his technique, had Harry's prostate almost constantly stimulated during regular fucking. The in and out sensation in that ring of muscle and nerves was amazing. And the fullness, oh, the feeling of being full and taken and touched _everywhere_ , inside and out. Harry loved it all. And he wanted it all. Right now. But he'd promised his lover he would go slow and do anything else Draco asked, and he was going to honor that promise.

Draco - being particularly silly - cast _Tempus_. Therefore, they knew that it took two full minutes. Harry went slow, and when he couldn't go slowly enough, he stopped and held himself in place to a silent count of thirty. By the time Harry was fully seated and rocking slowly on Draco's skinny pelvis, they were both panting and forcing themselves not to slam together like magnets.

"Okay…" Draco bit out. "That was fucking good. But I'm only seventeen years old, and no one can fault me for having the patience of a hummingbird, right?" 

"Absolutely." Harry groaned, hoping he knew what that comment meant.

"Good." Draco responded, and then he flipped them both over and started battering into Harry's body hard and fast and desperate.

Harry mewled like a kitten and he didn't care. Nothing felt better than getting pounded by Draco. Draco filled him and slammed into him and took and grabbed and conquered and somehow nonetheless gave and granted and blessed.

Harry moaned and held onto his lover with both hands. He wanted only to feel Draco, to almost passively receive what sex with Draco gave him. Right now Harry wanted nothing more than to be exactly who, what and where he was at that very instant. 

By the time they fell asleep, nearly braided together, it had to have been well past three AM.

. * . * . * .

The door burst open at the utterly appalling hour of eight in the morning, and two very enthusiastic Gryffindors turned on all the lights (which - surely accidentally - included all the candles) bounced a few feet into the room and screamed in unison, "Happy Birthday, Harry!"

Harry was fairly sure that they hadn't expected Draco's scruffy head to emerge first from the wreck of a bed and drawl in his clearest, falsely annoyed tones: "Why, you didn't _tell_ me it was your _birthday_ today, sweet cheeks."

This impression was furthered when Ron and Hermione both screamed again, but this time, without words of friendship and happiness.

It was going to be a strange day.


	6. Better than Quidditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they belong to the clever Scottish lady. I just bend them and love them. Please don't smack me for playing. It isn't like I am going to earn any money from this! 
> 
> 50_smutlets prompt: 050. Writer's Choice - responsibilities 
> 
> Warnings: this series is about as serious as snack food. (And a tip of the pen to Samael for the metaphor).
> 
> Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to moon_of_my_soul in thanks for her suggestion ages ago after I posted part one that i turn a one-shot into more. :)

. * . * . * .

Draco doused the candles - leaving only the weak overhead lights. Harry and Draco huddled together in the bed, clearly at least shirtless under the sheet. It could not have been more obvious that Ron and Hermione - still standing shocked near the doorway - were not invited guests.

Ron and Hermione rushed out of the room, babbling things that Harry couldn't discern - probably because they were both muttering - and backing out - at the same time.

The door slammed and his boyfriend turned to him with an amused look. "You didn't discuss this with them beforehand, I take it?" Draco asked.

"No, I didn't even discuss it with myself, really. I asked you rather impulsively." Harry rubbed at his eyes. "I thought you knew that."

"Yes, well, I suppose I did, but the proof is a bit more… obvious than I was ready for at this early hour."

"It is early. Let's go back to sleep."

"Harry." Draco sounded churlish. "Far be it for _me_ to take care of _your_ friends, but don't you think you should go talk to them before you fall back to sleep?"

Harry groaned and buried his face in Draco's naked chest. "But I don't _want_ to. I want to sleep. Here with you. In my nice warm bed. They can wait."

In response Harry only heard the warning tone as Draco said "Harry," once. Draco's chest moved as he said it. 

Harry sighed. "I could suck your cock?" he wheedled hopefully.

"Harry." Now Draco sounded annoyed. "Stop that. I have to live with these people. Get out of this bed and go explain to them why I'm here and how long I'm staying and my place in this house. Now."

Harry knew he'd lost. He stretched, kissed Draco once more - this time on the cheek - and went looking for his dressing gown. He thought he could see Draco pretending not to look at his naked body, so he deliberately teased, dropping something and bending over to pick it up, walking slowly and stretching with his gown open and facing Draco.

Draco snorted and buried himself cozily under the sheet. He opened one eye and told Harry what to do again. "Quit posing and prancing, fag boy. You can't tempt me with that hot cock right now. And turn off the lights as you leave. I want to go back to sleep while you go argue for my right to fuck you senseless."

Harry leaned his forehead against the door and groaned. "Damn you, Draco. You aren't making it easy to go be responsible."

"Tough shit. This was all your idea, so go deal with the fallout. I'll be here - sleeping I'm sure - whenever you manage to return."

. * . * . * .

"No! Damn it, you two, this is not up for negotiation!" Harry stood up abruptly and started pacing around the kitchen. His conversation with Ron and Hermione wasn't going well. Ron was sure that Draco compromised the security of Number Twelve, and Hermione was sure that Draco compromised the security of, in essence, Harry's heart.

Ron looked mutinous and Hermione simply looked put-upon as Harry growled and put some water on for tea. Then he turned and leaned against the stove, looking at his friends, his arms crossed over his chest. "All right. Let me be very, completely, exceedingly clear."

They nodded, though no one looked happy.

"Draco is my boyfriend now. We are lovers. You will probably see ample evidence of that soon. Cope. You two are sleeping together now and everyone except your parents knows, so don't you dare get high and mighty with me." Harry took a deep breath and, looking at the center of the kitchen table, started again. "You get no say in our relationship or where he lives. How we started dating is not your concern. All you need to know is that he is safer in this house than where he was, and I am safer if I don't visit him there, so he's here for the foreseeable future." 

Harry ran a hand through his tangled hair for a moment. He didn't want to say this next bit, but he had to. "If he and I break up I'll _Obliviate_ him or something and dump him in Diagon Alley but only I - not you Ron! - have the right to do that!"

Harry stared at Ron, waiting for a response. Ron looked quite aggrieved, but he nodded.

"There's… something else I suppose you need to know. It really isn't your business-" he glared menacingly at the air between his two friends, "-but it's probably better for you to hear it from me before you accidentally see it." 

Harry looked at his bare feet and blushed. Ron and Hermione turned to each other. Ron looked surprised and Hermione looked appalled.

"I have no idea what you two know about how boys have sex together, but I'm the… recipient."

"You're the bottom, Harry?" Hermione was sitting up straight, her hands folded primly on the table. But her voice had a tentative strangled catch in it. 

"Don't hurt your throat, Hermione." Harry responded in his driest voice. Then he looked at Ron's face. "And don't you get ill, mate. Your girlfriend is going to need some support soon, I expect."

Ron took a deep breath. "He puts his…"

Harry nodded.

"In your…" Ron made a crude gesture.

"Yep," Harry snarled.

"And you… like… that feels good?"

"Better than Quidditch."

Ron went pale.


	7. All the Magic I Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 50_smutlets prompt: 042. Music
> 
> "All the Magic I Need"

Despite the bomb Harry had dropped, the three friends had continued to argue about Draco's place in the house and Harry's life. While Ron had recuperated from the apparently stunning news that Harry loved to bottom, Hermione had tried to argue that Harry was cheating on Ginny. Then Ron couldn't let go of the idea that Draco was Voldemort's spy. 

Finally Harry stood up and looked first Ron, then Hermione, right in the eye. Hermione tried to say something else, but Harry cut her off with a look. 

"I'm done begging," he told them. "I want him. I'm keeping him. He makes me happy. Not to mention, this is my house. So that's the end of this conversation. I shouldn't ever have let either of you think this was anything other than me informing you of the new situation. I won't hear another word about why he shouldn't be here or I shouldn't date him. He's my lover. Be nice to him. I'm going back to bed. We'll see you at lunch."

"With any luck," he threw over his shoulder, just to see Ron turn green, "I can wake Draco and he'll fuck me senseless."

*

Harry opened the door to his room slowly and quietly, but Draco wasn't sleeping. He was playing with Harry's favorite Muggle toy: his CD player.

"I think I have this figured out!" Draco said with an adorable, bubbling excitement. 

Harry was tired but his adrenalin was pumping from his fight in the kitchen. He was very glad Draco hadn't gone back to sleep, as he'd threatened.

"I've found the perfect song to fuck you to, also. Is Richard Thompson a Muggle? His ideas about magic are a little odd." Draco turned the music on. First the jounce of a turbulent mandolin and then Thompson's tenor growl were snaking their way through the dusty beams of light threading in from the window. Harry was caught by the music for a moment.

_I got sinister things waiting for you in my rattle bag  
Egyptian rings, and the dust of kings, and the tooth of a hag   
The bones of Keats, the tongues of cheats, and a mad dog's eye   
And I'm going to make you love me and you won't know why _

"You want to fuck me again?" Harry was confused. He didn't mention it, but Thompson's mention of having "sinister things waiting" bothered him a little. "I thought you would be asleep?"

"Oh, did you want me to be asleep?" Draco's pout was as fake as Harry could ever remember seeing.

"No! Not at all, I'm just…" _already in love with you._ he thought.

"Shhhh," Draco smiled and smirked and sashayed toward Harry, who stopped thinking. "I think it is my turn to wish you a happy birthday." 

"Okay…" Harry murmured. His mouth had gone dry.

So Thompson sang and Draco danced. He pushed Harry toward the foot of the bed they'd shared the night before, and Harry sat. Their relationship had been rather unequal for much of the few short weeks they'd been stumbling through it. Harry had - willingly enough - made most of the moves, taken most of the risks. Draco's sudden conversion to a full partner in their relationship - if this even qualified as a relationship - was a bit stunning.

_I've got all the magic I need  
all the magic I need   
I've got all the magic I need   
I'm going to do the business on you, I'm going to do the business on you, I'm going to do the business on you, I've got all the magic I need _

Nonetheless, Draco had moved to Grimmauld Place, had been remarkably mature about Ron and Hermione's reaction to his presence, and was now… holy fuck, was now slowly stripping off the little he was wearing, as Thompson sang his spell to snare a lover.

"It's true, you have all the magic you need…" Harry panted, caught in the song and the striptease and too turned on to think of his own words. Draco simply swiveled again, hiding his pretty grey eyes behind his hair as he teased at the belt on his dressing gown.

_I've got a drop of Elvis' sweat from Caesar's Palace  
I've got Virginia McKenna's tears from A Town Like Alice   
I've got a hair from the underwear of the Empress Josephine   
And I'm going to come for you, darling, in the middle of a dream _

The beat was fast, like Harry's heartbeat. He was imagining Draco coming for him, though perhaps in a different way than the singer meant. The strings were bouncy but Thompson's voice was intense, focused, passionate. Draco's hips were gyrating to an instrumental section. 

Harry's mouth was slightly open. Draco leaned over, his dressing gown open, showing his nipples, dipping a little farther, closer… to use one finger and gently close Harry's mouth. Draco laughed kindly as he kissed near the top of Harry's cheekbone, puffed a breath of warmth into Harry's ear and then whispered lyrics along with the song.

_I've got war paints, the skulls of saints, don't you want to see 'em  
The blood of popes, and Tyburn ropes from the Black Museum   
I've got Frederick Delius' finger, Wordsworth's tattoo   
And I'm going to love you with everything, and I think you're going to love me too _

Draco pulled away slightly and spoke in more regular tone. "I like that line about the Black Museum. I think we must be living in it." Draco danced away backwards before turning around and heading for Harry again - still backwards, his dressing gown finally relinquished to the floor.

Harry couldn't understand what was wrong with him. Draco was being sexy and witty and Harry couldn't even laugh at the joke. He could only sit and stare at Draco, whose eyes were almost chiding as they looked back over his shoulder at Harry. But it was easy to ignore Draco's eyes in favour of his naked arse, which was coming closer as Draco wriggled and shimmied.

_I've got all the magic I need  
all the magic I need   
I've got all the magic I need   
I'm going to do the business on you, I'm going to do the business on you, I'm going to do the business on you, I've got all the magic I need _

Finally Harry snapped and whispered raggedly, "Draco? Come to bed?" But Draco ignored him - except to smirk.

The song started again. Draco must have put it on infinite repeat. Draco came even closer and damn near shoved his perfect little arse into Harry's face. So Harry grabbed hold and held on. Draco pretended to fight, but this turned out to be an excuse to fall into Harry's lap. 

"Fucking hell, Draco. My cock is so hard for you I could do construction work."

"How about I suck you till you come in my mouth, and then I fuck you really, really hard instead? Doesn't that sound like more fun?"

Instead of answering, Harry started kissing Draco and yanking off his own dressing gown. Draco helped him out of his boxers. It wasn't long before Harry was on his hands and knees, his face buried in his pillow and his arse full of cock.

They both came screaming.

Harry could hardly believe how good it was to have Draco there in Grimmauld Place with him. They were going to have _so much sex_.

_I've got all the magic I need  
all the magic I need   
I've got all the magic I need _

They woke up at noon and Harry knew it was almost time to formally introduce his boyfriend to the rest of the household. Harry got done in the shower first and decided to hurry downstairs before he and Draco ended up fucking again. As wonderful as that sounded, he wanted to leave his bedroom today for something other than a screaming match. Draco heard him leaving and called out.

"Wait downstairs for me? I want to take my time and deep condition my hair. I'll be there in ten or fifteen."

"All right!" Harry replied as he shut the door. He jogged toward the kitchen.

When Harry got in the kitchen, his friends looked decidedly sheepish. In addition, there was a messily decorated cake on the table, which smelled delicious even if one side was clearly shorter than the other. There was a small banner hanging over the doorway, flashing "Happy 17th Birthday, Harry!" in red and gold.

"I can't believe we didn't say anything before. This is your birthday present." Hermione handed Harry a securely wrapped object. He put it on the table and looked at her with confusion. He could feel the darkness leaking through the seams sewn in the fabric around the… whatever it was. "It was in McGonagall's office. She knew what we'd come for right away. We think it's the Ravenclaw horcrux."


	8. Happy Birthday, Harry!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Happy Birthday, Harry!  
> Rating: PG-13  
> no beta tonight.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was a decidedly odd thing to give as a birthday present, Harry knew, but he was nonetheless delighted.

"Shit, really? The Ravenclaw one? This is fucking fantastic! Yeah!" He pumped his fist in the air and did a little dance in place. Ron and Hermione looked on, clearly both happy and uncomfortable.

"I'm…" Harry sat on the edge of the table and swung his legs. Then he took a deep breath and looked at the floor. "I'm not telling Draco about them, by the way," he finally told them. 

Ron almost spoke but Hermione put a hand on his arm and gave him a pointed look. Ron snarled silently.

"I think that's a wise decision," Hermione said quietly.

"I promised… Dumbledore." Harry said in discomfort. Then he puffed out a breath of air and plastered a happy look on his face. "Anyway, this gets us so much closer to the end. This is terrific. Thanks so much. We destroy this and then we only have one more before: Pow! We go after the big game."

Hermione smiled. "I'm really glad it makes you happy. We've been so careful to stay out of public places we didn't have a chance to buy you anything. Oh. And a bunch of folks are coming at dinnertime for a little party for you. Er, Ginny will be here."

"Oh. Shit." Harry felt an uncomfortable wriggle in his gut. "I should, er, I should owl her or something."

"You, er, you could tell her to bring her new boyfriend." Ron muttered.

"She has a new boyfriend?" Harry shifted uneasily on the tabletop.

Hermione, who had passionately argued earlier that morning that Harry was cheating on Ginny by dating Draco, huffed.

"Yeah. Zacharias Smith. Not for very long now." Ron sounded unsure of Harry's reaction.

"Uh… but… do you think it's safe to let him in the house? I mean, I know he was in the DA, but…."

"No Harry, I don't." Hermione sounded almost fierce. Harry gave her a quizzical look.

"It isn't because I think you should… get her away from him. It's because I … I don't think we should compromise the security of Grimmauld Place over… romantic dalliances."

"Point taken, Hermione." Harry replied, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

*

When Draco came downstairs they ate sandwiches together. Draco spoke to Harry. Harry spoke to Ron. Ron spoke to Hermione. Hermione spoke, haltingly, stiffly, to Draco. Harry found himself annoyed to feel grateful.

Finally, it looked like Hermione had had enough. "So Harry. When you went up earlier, did you have to wake him to fuck you senseless?"

Harry felt his jaw work free a bit, and hastened to close his mouth. But Hermione kept talking. 

"Because next time, put up some privacy charms, eh?"

Hermione was bright red. She was looking Harry right in the eye, however, defiant and determined. Ron went almost purple, every freckle standing out like a beacon. Draco, Harry saw out of the corner of his eye, looked slightly flushed, but he didn't know his lover well enough yet to know if it was embarrassment or arousal. Embarrassment certainly seemed the most likely option, however. And that was when Harry realized that he'd lost the battle to keep his mouth closed.

Nonetheless, the four of them were far more at ease after Hermione's crude icebreaker.

**

Draco wasn't pleased to learn that a locust-plague of Weasleys was coming for dinner. Harry placated him with a blow job. Twice.

By the time Mrs. Weasley arrived to put the food on the table and set the table for thirteen Draco was reasonably mellow. The cough he choked on when Harry introduced him as "my good friend, Draco Malfoy," was a little obvious, but Harry was able to ignore it. Mrs. Weasley was actually calm and sweet about a Malfoy being there. She smiled broadly at Draco, apologized for the state of her hands (covered with buttercream and not suitable for a proper shake), and asked him to help Harry set out cutlery.

Things with Ginny, however, were not quite so smooth. She couldn't stay away from Harry and she couldn't shut up about her new boyfriend. 

"Zacharias got near perfect marks last year, did you know?"

"Zacharias is a direct descendent of Helga Hufflepuff, isn't that impressive? They have things about her in their library that are positively unique!"

"Zacharias' parents are _so_ nice. They said I could come stay for the weekend later this month. They're _such_ lovely people."

Draco started to fidget, then to tap. Then his smile went forced and plasticky. 

Harry didn't feel much better. Dinner had been delicious, but when he saw the way Fred was looking at _his_ Draco, he lost his appetite. He still had half a plate of food left and Mrs. Weasley was clucking at him to eat more when he decided subtlety be damned.

"Draco? Will you come into the hall with me? We need to discuss something in private."

He fully expected a fight but Draco jumped up quickly enough that Harry had to grab the chair to stabilize it. "Of course, _Harry_." He pronounced his boyfriend's name possessively and put his hand on Harry's lower back. But he faced Molly with a warm, gracious smile. "We'll be right back, Mrs. Weasley. Everything is so delicious."

"Especially you," he mumbled directly in Harry's ear as they tried to escape from the room without looking like they were rushing. He'd never removed his hand from Harry's back and the warmth - both there and on his ear - were proving distracting. Harry was no longer sure what he'd planned to say and he didn't really care.

"I did _not_ like the way Fred was looking at you!" Harry muttered into Draco's ear as the door swung shut behind them.

"And I did not appreciate the way that little minx was all over _you_ ," Draco breathed into Harry's neck as he maneuvered Harry back into the corner.

Then Harry just couldn't resist seeing if Draco was at all erect, and Draco couldn't resist pressing his now half-hard cock into Harry's cupping warmth. Harry gasped into Draco's ear and Draco's ear was so sensitive that his head fell back and Harry couldn't keep from nibbling when Draco's neck was presented to him like that, long and white and strong and smelling so nice and he couldn't not part the folds of Draco's robes and moan quietly as Draco did the same to him. 

Their robes fell to the floor at the same time and Harry thought he might trip unless Draco pushed his back more firmly into the wonderful, stalwart wall. Then they started unbuttoning one another's shirts and were so engaged in that, and the accompanying deep tender soft nipping kisses, that neither of them heard anything at all when the kitchen door swung open wide.

"Gee Harry," they heard Fred say, and jumped apart guiltily, "if I'd known you swung my way I'd have asked you out on a date ages ago."

"Fred?" Mr. Weasley said, entering the doorway next to his son and sounding mildly surprised and confused. "Are you…"

Harry was surprised to see that Fred's blush actually didn't resemble Ron's at all. He took Draco's hand and squeezed it.

"Oops. Sorry Dad. This wasn't exactly how I'd planned to come out to you and Mum… but, yeah. Me too."

Ron's once again purple face appeared over his father's head, but he wasn't the next to speak.

"It isn't exactly a strain," George's voice sang in from the knot of Weasley's in the doorway, "to find Draco Malfoy attractive, though. I'm not sure liking a boy that pretty actually makes Harry a ponce."

"Merlin's pants! Are _all_ my brothers faggots now?" Ron's voice had gone so high that Harry thought someone might be sitting on his testicles.

"Watch who you call _faggot_ , ickle Ronnikins." Charlie rejoined. "If Fred and I aren't your sort of brother I suggest you let us know. Now."

Ron went a little green under the purple. It was the grossest thing Harry had seen in ages, but he still wanted to laugh. He loved Ron dearly, but the bloke's homophobia was incredibly annoying. And, apparently, not only to him.

"Never said I was gay, Ronnikins," George's mild voice continued. "Just have an eye for beauty, t'all."

Mrs. Weasley's voice came next, and red-haired men began disappearing from the doorway - plucked away by the motherly hand that Harry saw on shoulder after shoulder. "All my boys, including Harry, are my sort of son," she said before Molly herself appeared in the doorway and she gave Harry and Draco a pointed look that traveled down their chests. "But perhaps Harry and Draco should get their clothes back on before Harry blows the candles out." 

Everyone laughed. Harry and Draco hurriedly rebuttoned their shirts and shrugged their robes back on before they slipped - pink-cheeked - back into the warm kitchen.

Ginny gave Harry one appraising look, then settled calmly into her chair as though understanding and perfectly content. Perhaps, Harry thought, she didn't mind losing his affection to a _boy_. 

The rest of the gathering was decidedly more relaxed, except that Harry and Draco both were quite careful to keep one another away from Charlie and Fred. And George.


	9. Cole Porter said it best.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: "Cole Porter said it best."  
> Rating: NC-17  
> no beta tonight, but 13moons helped me a whole bunch.  
> Warnings: Er… don't trip over the soapbox?  
> This chapter about 3300 words.

* * * *

Harry loved the Weasleys all very dearly, even Ginny, but the half-lidded looks, lip biting and subtle touches Draco kept tempting him with after they moved the party to the lounge made him increasingly eager to say goodbye to the lot of them.

Finally Draco sprawled, relaxed in an armchair, his legs open and pelvis tilted upward. Then he bit and reddened his lower lip and stroked his fingers through his own hair. Harry watched from all the way across the room, paralyzed, as Draco lightly traced the outer curve of his own earlobe. Open mouthed, Harry decided he needed to get Draco upstairs and alone behind a locked and silenced door - immediately - before one of them caught the air on fire with their eyes.

He stretched and yawned as ostentatiously as possible, pretending to hide from Mrs. Weasley. She took the bait, the dear. Harry thought he should owl her a thank you note in the morning. Or afternoon. Whenever he and Draco made it out of bed again, anyway.

Once all the redheads that didn't live at Grimmauld had disappeared through the Floo, Harry saw Hermione elbow Ron hard in the ribs. Startled, Ron grabbed his side before remembering his lines.

"Er, Harry. You and Draco, uh, should go up to bed. I mean! To sleep!" Hermione elbowed him again, but this time he anticipated it and mostly got out of the way. "And Hermione and I will clean up and put all the leftovers away!"

Bless Mrs. Weasley, they would be eating those leftovers for a week before they would have to cook again. And by then, tired old Bodely would probably have managed to wrest control of the kitchen from Kreacher.

"Thanks, Ron. I am tired. We'll see you, er, tomorrow sometime." They ran up the stairs.

"Sex." Harry panted as he sat heavily on the floor to yank off his trainers. "Let's have sex. Now. You've been teasing me all damn night and I want to have sex!"

Draco reached for the hook and eye that closed his high collar and winked. "Good. That was the plan."

"It worked!" Harry grinned and shimmied out of his nice trousers. 

Then he turned away from Draco's eyes before he spoke again. "Want you inside me, Draco. Want you to fuck me till I'm sore." 

He knew he was blushing now but nonetheless hummed his appreciation for this thought as he flung his y-fronts onto the pile of clothes he was draping messily on the desk chair. He had his shirt around his ears when he thought he heard Draco murmur something unexpected.

"What was that? I thought I heard you offer to bottom!" Harry laughed for a second, then cut himself off abruptly as he saw that Draco was looking away, down at the floor, and either frowning or pouting. He walked over to his lover and sat on the bed next to him, bending over a bit in an attempt to better see Draco's face.

"Draco? Did I say something wrong?" he asked. 

Draco avoided Harry's eyes. "You don't have to act like it's crazy, you know. I've offered to bottom before."

Harry was surprised. Draco? Bottom? When had Draco ever offered to bottom? Except… yes, there was that one time. "But, you didn't _really_ want to, right? You were just trying to keep me from leaving. And that was ages ago. I thought…" he tried to figure out what, if anything, he'd actually thought. "I guess I thought you were scared to do that. And besides, I love it."

"Scared! You think I'm scared? Of sex?" Draco sat up very tall on the bed. "I'm not scared! I'm the man in this relationship, Harry. I'm the top!"

Harry didn't want to piss Draco off, especially _before_ they had sex. But even burying his face in his arm and holding his breath couldn't stop the laughter that gurgled out of him. "Do you realize how completely mental you sound?" he asked, when he stopped laughing and regained control. 

Draco looked furious and confused.

"Merlin's pants, I don't even know where to _start_. You think topping makes you a man? What do you think bottoming makes _me_ then? A girl? Because Draco. Seriously. I'm no girl. I mean, come on. I thought that was a big part of the whole point." A horrible, painful idea flashed across his mind. "Unless you aren't… tell me this isn't about me being The Boy Who Lived, Draco. Tell me this isn't about old Moldy's stupid obsession with me." 

Draco was looking into Harry's eyes, stricken, confused. But nodding.

"Tell me you fuck me because you love fucking me, Draco. _Me_. Not some… newspaper clipping."

"I love fucking you, Harry. I do. I love it. I wanted to… to give you a birthday present. That's all. Everyone knows topping feels better than bottoming."

Now Harry was angry. "Oh yeah? Really? Everyone? I suppose I've been fucking you, or letting you fuck me, if that's how you've been thinking of it, despite not really enjoying it? What sort of masochist do you think I am? For fuck's sake, Draco. I love bottoming. It feels fantastic. It's not a sacrifice, and you aren't exactly cutting my dick off when you slide inside me. I bottom for you because I like bottoming. And… because I'm… I'm gay. There. I said it. I'm gay."

Harry deliberately lowered his volume. "You already gave me a birthday present by coming here to live with me so I can keep you safe." Harry smiled as he remembered their morning, when Draco had figured out the CD player and danced for him. "Not to mention this morning and the magic song dance and… everything."

"Well," Draco looked lost. "I wanted to… give you more. I wanted to… and all those Weasel...ies. They… love you and you love them and I wanted to…." He stopped trying.

Harry cocked his head as he tried to figure out what the hell Draco was getting at. Remembering an uncomfortable conversation about 'growing up' that he'd had with Remus, he had an inspiration. "Are you feeling insecure?"

"Certainly not!" Draco looked miserable.

Harry waited, reasonably sure there was nothing he could say that wouldn't make Draco angry, sad, or both.

Draco continued, "Well, I… I'm sure there's a better word for it than… 'insecure.'" He whispered it, his mouth nearly in his chest. "I want to be…" he trailed off into silence again.

Harry pulled Draco down unto the bed with him and Draco curled around Harry's side. Then he edged up onto an elbow and looked Harry in the eye. He picked up a hand and put it near Harry's face. Harry thought Draco would push his hand through Harry's hair, but Draco stopped himself suddenly, then put his hand on his own trousered hip.

"I feel stupid," he finally said.

"Don't. I promise, I absolutely swear not to laugh." 

Draco glared. 

"This time," Harry amended. "I swear I won't laugh this time. Just… you have to be serious, and not, you know… loud and pig-headed and stuff."

Draco closed his eyes and Harry petted long strokes down his bare back, hoping to reassure. He might not always be exactly sure of what it all meant, but his hands loved Draco's skin all the same.

He felt Draco inhale deeply, then exhale. He waited, trying to be patient and quiet.

"I want to be special to you, Harry," Draco finally said.

That was a surprise, and Harry knew that it showed in his voice. "You are, Draco."

"I… I guess I know that. But I want to be the _most_ special. I want to be really important to you. I want this to be… real. I don't want this to be just… to save me. Or because I was there. Because I… what did you say? 'drugs, _Stupefy_ and a dungeon?' I want it to be for some other reason than that I kidnapped you and I turned out to be kind of fun, or a nice diversion."

"So you offered to bottom?" Harry asked. There was so much he could say in response, but he wanted to be careful, and part of that was surely getting all the information first.

"Yeah." Draco sighed.

"Okay," he took a deep breath. "I'm glad you want to be special to me, because you are. And I'm glad you want this to be real, not just a convenience or a coincidence, because it is."

Harry shuddered as he realized how deep a truth he'd just spoken. It made him nervous to be vulnerable to anyone like this. The fact that it was _Draco Malfoy_ (of all people!) that he'd made himself so vulnerable with… he'd obviously gone completely hatstand. But there was no getting around it. He'd broken up with Ginny to keep her safe, and then he'd deepened his relationship with Draco to keep _him_ safe, and now the one who wasn't safe was Harry. Then again, when had Harry ever really been safe? And that brought him right back around to where this had started. Sex wasn't safe at all, but that was for emotional reasons, not physical ones.

And that, of course, brought him back to Draco's crazy ideas about what different positions meant on an emotional level. Not to mention other weird-shit levels.

"But I don't like the way you think about bottoming. It isn't a surrender, or something I endure. It doesn't make me a girl, it isn't about the rest of our relationship or who I am as a person or a bloke, and it doesn't have anything to do with the seriousness of how I feel about you, and about us as a… as a couple."

"So…" Draco spoke into Harry's neck. "We're a couple?"

"Yes." Harry answered, as firmly as he could. "We are definitely a couple. So don't shag Charlie."

Draco chuckled and said, "Charlie isn't my type." Harry felt warmer.

"Good. Now, tell me what you think about all this."

Draco squirmed again. "Wait, about what, exactly?"

"Topping and bottoming." Harry knew his voice was too dry.

"Er, Harry?" He put his hand down flat on Harry's chest. "Why?"

"Because you… some of the things you said were really," he took a deep breath and tried again. "Because I need to know what you really think, and if you've changed your mind at all. If you even can."

Draco twisted slightly and stared up at the ceiling. "I could just tell you what you want to hear, Harry, I am a Slytherin. How about instead I tell you where I was coming from, all right?" Harry nodded and Draco paused. 

"I had this relative. An uncle or something, who can keep track? He never got married. Alphard Black was his name."

Harry felt a twinge. "I think he was the one who gave Sirius, my godfather I mean, money when he ran away!"

"I think he did, yeah, because I remember snotty things people said about him when they thought I couldn't hear. Anyway, I think Alphard was, you know… a 'confirmed bachelor.'"

"Well, yeah," Harry agreed, confused. "You said he never got married."

Harry saw Draco's cheeks flare with a bit of color and suppressed the urge to kiss his lover's embarrassment away.

"I meant he was… er, you know. He liked men."

"He was gay?"

"I think so, yes."

"You don't want to call him gay?"

Draco said nothing.

"Merlin's pants! You don't even want to say the word 'gay' out loud!"

Draco squirmed. Harry couldn't resist a little teasing.

"Draco. You're gay. You do realize this, do you not? You are _hoe-moe-SEX-you-ull_." He did his best to pronounce the word obnoxiously and realized he was a little annoyed. "It doesn't matter if you never bottom, you are still gay. Because when you put your cock in my arse, and I'm a bloke? Which you know because you reach between us and pull me off while you fuck me?" Harry felt himself flush, his cock thicken. "Gay, Draco. Gay."

"Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Shut up and let me finish?"

Harry blushed.

"So. Cousin Alphard, or Great-Uncle, or whatever he was. I heard things about him, and I realized that… people looked down on him because he was… gay. Gay. There. I said it. Out loud!"

Harry stroked Draco's back and waited. He hoped he wasn't smirking.

"And I'm not sure what they really wanted me to think, but what I learned was that it was… shameful to… bottom. That doing that makes a man into a woman, and women are, you know, lesser. Weak. Recipients. And a man doesn't do that because a man is, you know, bigger and stronger and more than a woman. Women are Mums. Men are er, adults? In charge?"

"Is that what you think of, oh hell, I don't know… Professor Sinistra? Or McGonagall? Or your own Mum?"

"Dammit Harry, I didn't mean it made sense or anything, I just meant it was sitting there in the back of my, of my head? My heart? My… I don't know. Just… aww fuck."

He sounded like he was about to give up, and Harry pulled him closer.

"I think I understand. You learned things when you were a kid that you don't really believe, but you can't quite stop believing them, either? Is that it?"

Harry felt Draco's head nod 'yes' against his side and chest.

"I can understand that," Harry conceded. "I think I have that problem too, sometimes. About other stuff, mostly, but I think I know what it feels like."

"Yeah? Tell me about that someday?"

Harry kissed Draco's silky hair. "Of course."

"Harry?"

His stiffy was completely gone now, but he decided it didn't matter. "What?"

"I think… I mean… why are you more comfortable with being gay than I am?" Draco began playing with Harry's chest hairs. He had six of them now.

"Well, because I'm not as gay as you are."

Draco snorted and pulled involuntarily at Harry's chest hair.

"Hey! Don't pull those out!"

Draco laughed dismissively again.

"I'm not, Draco. I'm bi. Bisexual. I have less to give up than you do. Because I'm quite sure you are all the way gay."

Draco humphed at him, but looked less certain. 

Harry twisted a little to get a better look at Draco's face. "I'm sure of it," he continued. "I just… I get this feeling about you. And besides, you haven't ever had a girlfriend, right? You took Parkinson to the Yule Ball fourth year, but no one's seen you date since then."

"So I've never had a girlfriend. That doesn't make me… not bisexual also. And besides, I think you are full of shit. You were just as freaked out about this as I was until… until really recently, I don't know when things changed. But…" Draco pulled his face away from Harry and looked him in the eye. "Wait, I _do_ know. It was tonight! You got all confident just tonight. And I think I know why, too. It isn't because you're bisexual, because if that were it then it would have happened before. And it isn't because you're the bottom and therefore more gay than I am, I guess I can see your point there. I think you got all confident about it because you came out to the Weasley's and they still love you."

"Hmm. You might be right about that. I… that hadn't occurred to me at all. How did you get so smart, anyway?"

"I just am." Draco looked intensely smug. "Anyway, I think I understand all that stuff you were saying before, but I might have trouble really… you know… acting like I really believe it. For a while. I hope that's all right. So do you want me to bottom so you can prove to me that I'm wrong?" He sounded nervous. He didn't meet Harry's eyes.

"No, Draco. I want you to top so I can prove you're wrong. _Incarcerous_."

The flat silken ropes snaked from the four corners of the bed to restrain Draco securely. Harry slipped easily out of their path and grinned at Draco, who looked up at him, bewildered, nervous, and suddenly hard as iron and tenting his trousers.

"Gonna sit on your cock, lover, and show you I'm still the man in charge."

Harry loved magic. It allowed him to remove Draco's clothing despite having already tied Draco to the bed. He simply cut all the cloth off with a spell, then repaired it and tossed it vaguely toward the desk chair where his own clothing was haphazardly placed.

Draco's trousers and pants actually landed on the floor, but Harry already had his lips around the head of Draco's erection and so neither of them noticed.

Harry decided that the best way to prove his point was to reduce Draco to a mewling, whimpering beggar. With his fingers firmly around the base of his lover's cock, he did everything in his power to bring Draco to the edge and not allow him to spill over.

In the past weeks he'd learned so much about Draco's body. Draco loved to have his balls gripped and pulled, rather more roughly than Harry liked on himself. Draco might never actually bottom, but he loved a finger pressing at him just there, or rubbing in a tiny circle. The vein on the underside of Draco's cock was very sensitive, and if Harry nibbled at it gently with his lips - no teeth! -Draco would lose control even faster.

And Draco could do nothing but keen insensibly whenever Harry managed to deep throat.

Harry wasn't normally crazy about deep throating, but tonight he aimed to make Draco keen until he came, then get him hard and ride him till he lost control of every part of himself, so he knew why he'd been restrained. He only hoped he'd be able to stay in control of himself long enough to make it all happen.

By the time Harry was through sucking and riding Draco's cock they were both exhausted and dripping with sweat. They'd both come twice. Harry was vaguely aware that the room reeked, but despite the warm August night air waiting patiently outside, he simply couldn't force himself over to open the window. 

Draco swore he would agree to anything Harry said, so long as Harry promised to do all those things to him again. Someday. After he'd had a chance to recover.

Draco was still fast asleep when Harry slipped out of the bedroom in the morning and took his shower alone. His arse was a little sore, but it had all been more than worth it.

* * * *

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith? My name is Harry Potter. I go to school with your son Zacharias? I think you may have some books I need to look at."

The Smiths were just what Ginny claimed: lovely people in possession of an ancient biography of Helga Hufflepuff. The thing looked to be eight or nine hundred years old, if Harry correctly understood the Roman numerals in the front. Harry skimmed it quickly, using his wand to turn the pages and - using a ballpoint pen and writing on the back of his left hand - taking notes on locations in Britain that had been important to old Helga. He found three that looked promising, one of which was clearly the best to try first.

He thanked the Smiths sincerely and left for the first place, armed with nothing more than his wand and his invisibility cloak.

He was gone a little longer than he'd anticipated.

"Oi, Weasel." Draco drawled. "Where is Harry? I need him. He hasn't sucked my cock yet today."


	10. Mr. and Mrs. Smith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: "Mr. and Mrs. Smith"  
> Personal Dungeon, chapter ten. This chapter about 2700 words.  
> By twisted miracle  
> Beta by scrtkpr and 13moons
> 
> Author's Note: this is the last chapter and this fic is now complete. Thank you for coming along for the ride!

************************

The cup was in the very first place Harry looked for it. He'd never imagined he could be so glad that an ex would start dating someone else, but if Ginny hadn't said anything about Smith's parents he'd have spent Merlin only knew how much time looking for this thing. That biography of Helga had really been the perfect lead. 

And three cheers for old Voldy, too, Harry decided. Every "saviour" needed a villain this stupid.

The only problem was, as soon as Harry fought his way into the center of the spell maze and levitated the cup out from the cradle of sentient spiny vines and mezmer-mirrors that Voldemort had placed it in, Voldemort himself appeared.

 _Shit_ , Harry thought. _Here we go again._

Harry looked at the cup in his hand and an idea tumbled into his mind. All he had at this point was his wand, his magic, and his mind. His wand was an equal to Voldemort's, his magic was less. 

But Voldemort made stupid mistakes all the time, mostly because he was so arrogant that he was always thinking he knew better than everyone else. He also had a habit of not checking his assumptions.

It was the only advantage Harry could see.

"You are too late, Tom." He tried to press just the right amount of youthful overconfidence into his voice. "I've found the third and final horcrux. I'm going to destroy it, and then I'm going to destroy you."

Even though Harry was pretty sure he had fooled Voldemort, his grin was still a horrible thing to behold.

************************

Draco had known he was being a bit malicious, deliberately provoking the Weasel like that. What he didn't know was that Ron was already on edge.

"Where _is_ he? You mean you don't know? Because, so help me, Malfoy, if he's hurt… or worse—"

Draco felt real alarm. "Hurt? Why would you think Harry is hurt? He isn't here? Where did he go? Fuck!" He wanted to smack himself. "Why didn't I give him something for his birthday that would let me locate him?" he muttered. "A ring, a bracelet, anything!"

Ron looked about to explode with anger and insults when Hermione interrupted, yelling from the fireplace in the next room. "I _told_ you he would go visit Zacharias's parents, Ron!" 

She continued as both boys rushed toward her voice, getting stuck in the doorway in their mutual eagerness to win the race.

"They said he was just here! They think he went to the West Swirl Passage of the Oxlow Cavern because…" Hermione's voice trailed off as she saw Draco enter the room immediately behind Ron.

"Granger." Draco said with as much respect as he could muster for someone on their hands and knees for a firecall. He watched her vanish from the fireplace then reappear a few seconds later in a swirl of green flames. She looked at Ron as she absently brushed ash from her jeans and Butthole Surfers t-shirt. 

Disconcerted, Draco wondered if the shirt was meant as a facetious or supportive comment on his relationship with Harry. Deciding it didn't matter, he looked her in the eye.

"I know he is missing, and I now also know where you are going. You might as well let me in on the rest of it because if you think you are heading off to Oxlow without me you are quite, quite mistaken."

Draco looked at the way she was chewing her lip and not quite looking at either of them. He needed to be diplomatic. He breathed slowly. This was not going to be easy, but if he had a chance at getting either of them on his side, it was her.

"Let us work together, now. We all want Harry home safely. Surely you believe at least that of me." 

A flash of insight hit. They didn't trust him; he could work with that. "Also, if I'm with you, you will know where I am."

Ron huffed loudly. "I'd also know where you were if I stunned you and tied you to a chair, wouldn't I?" 

Hermione looked troubled. "Ronald! I know we don't like Malfoy, but that's going a bit too far. Harry trusts him!"

Hopeful, Draco tried again. "A lot of people come and go through here. If someone revived me, I could tell him where you went. He would follow you, maybe interfere. He might even bring me along."

Hermione paused briefly. "We need to keep an eye on him, Ron."

Draco decided it was best to simply pretend this meant Hermione and Ron had come to a decision. "So!" He rubbed his hands together briskly and hoped it didn't look the affectation it felt. "Oxlow Cavern. West Swirl Passage. Is that all they told you?"

"Yes. Mrs. Smith noticed he'd written it on his hand. He wrote other things down as well, but she couldn't see them."

Hermione was walking around the room, gathering together a small package of snacks, a map, and her mobile telephone. Ron was turning red and trying to put together a full sentence. Draco was making sure not to listen.

"Ron, stop bristling," Hermione said without turning from the bookshelf where she had stored the maps. "We're taking him. It's the safer option. If Harry isn't at the caves, we have a long search ahead of us."

"Weasley," Draco forced his voice to sound gentle. "I know you don't trust me, but Harry does, and you trust him. Give him some credit, won't you? Now please, we're wasting time."

************************

They knew immediately that they had Apparated to almost the right place. They followed the noise, dead spiny vines and shattered bits of mirror around the corner to see that Harry was already dueling Voldemort. And Harry was losing. 

Worse, having his lover and two best friends appear abruptly didn't help Harry's concentration. The three would-be-rescuers watched as seconds after they arrived, Harry was bound to the wall of the cave. Voldemort wore a mocking look and Harry scowled at him angrily.

Draco didn't seem to spare even a heartbeat to think. He ran to Harry's side and grasped his hand. Voldemort curled his lip into a sneer but seemed too surprised to react otherwise as Draco vanished Harry's bonds and grabbed him as he fell into his arms. A small, shiny cup with two handles flew from Harry's robe pocket and Draco, seeker's reflexes still intact, plucked it from the air.

"Draco!" Harry hissed in distress, not taking his eyes from Voldemort. "I have to have that back! Now!"

"Why?" Draco asked, puzzled. He let go of Harry, but stood close by, his wand pointed at the Dark Lord.

Ron and Hermione now stood at Harry's right hand, but they were apparently paralyzed as they stared - horrified and hopeful - at the tiny cup in Draco's left.

Voldemort stood nearby, apparently amused by their slight defenses, bad planning and lack of backup. His wand was dangling from his hand. All four teens, however, had their wands trained at his head. Voldemort didn't even seem to care, and Harry found himself annoyed by how little Voldy thought of them as combatants and foes.

"You haven't told him, Harry?" Voldemort hissed. His arrogant, condescending English sounded much like Parseltongue. "I'm surprised at you. Did you wish to hold that sort of power yourself? Did you wish to hold the keys to immortality?" He sounded delighted, and Harry's skin crawled.

"What the fuck is he on about, Harry?" Draco whispered from halfway behind Harry's back. Harry knew his boyfriend was frightened and unwilling to admit it. He stepped more directly between Draco and Voldemort.

"Is that why you're here alone, Tom? Didn't want any of your Death Eaters to know your secrets?"

Voldemort ignored him. "Have I been… rubbing off on you then, Harry? Have you done things I would do, boy? Perhaps we could work together!" His screechy laughter made it clear he was just fucking with Harry, but Harry decided to take the comment seriously anyway.

"Never, Tom." Harry stood tall and felt Draco cringe in fear right behind him.

Voldemort twisted on his feet, considering the teens. "I believe you would be more pliable if you didn't have that distraction on your back. Nagini!" 

The creature slithered from the shadows and flicked her tongue at Voldemort. With most of her body still coiled on the floor, she lifted her head up high enough to stare into her master's eyes. "Brunch for you, my dear. Go eat the blond boy behind young Mister Potter." 

"No! You leave Draco out of this!" Harry screamed, as Nagini lunged for his boyfriend. 

"Me?" Draco screamed in horror, as Nagini's startlingly large fangs sliced through the air toward him. Harry was furious and terrified as he saw Draco witlessly defend himself with the only thing in his left hand. The tiny golden cup slammed into Nagini's left fang as Harry screamed, "No, Draco, no! Don't!"

But it was too late. Draco had returned the horcrux to Voldemort intact. Nagini would catch it and she and Voldemort would vanish. No, it was much worse. Voldemort would have the horcrux _and_ all four of them. Harry felt his guilt press his feet into the floor and twist his heart in his ribs. They were all captured, they'd lost the horcrux, and it was all his fault. Again.

Except… as Harry watched, the cup and fang exploded in a shower of guttering green sparks and dripping poison. " _Protego_!" he screamed, just in time to shield himself and Draco from the magical backlash of two horcruxes destroying one another. 

"No!" Voldemort shrieked, but it was useless. Nagini fell dead, golden shards of porcelain bristling from bloody wounds in her mouth, head and one of her eyes.

Harry wasted a moment to wince in sympathy. Then he caught Ron's attention. "Body-bind now! Everyone!" 

Four young voices screamed in terrified disharmony. " _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Voldemort fell to the floor immobile, a mortal lump of clay. The last living spiny vines lay in a brown clump near his arm. One of them slunk toward his wand.

Harry saw that Ron and Hermione had their wands on Voldemort as he swung around and reached up to grab his lover's shoulders. "Draco! Honey! Are you all right? I was so terrified for you! I can't believe you came here looking for me! I can't believe you… holy shit, Draco. You… I can't even begin to explain what you did." He wrapped his arms around Draco and held him close to stave off the shimmering sense of hysteria that now threatened to overcome him.

"Well, you sure as hell are going to eventually!" Draco spoke indignantly into the dirty tangle of Harry's hair. "I heard the shit he was telling you and it scared the hell out of me! It sounds like you've been keeping very dangerous secrets."

"Maybe… maybe you're right and I am wrong, Draco. I really don't know. I just know I love you and I don't want to lose you. Not ever. Merlin, you scared the crap out of me. Come on, let's get Voldemort to the Ministry. The Aurors can deal with him." 

"No they can't!" Ron's loud, distracted voice invaded Harry's bubble of fear and concern for his lover, and the two of them turned their heads to see what Ron was agitated about.

The center of Voldemort's chest had caught fire.

"Holy shit! Who did that! Did you do that?" Harry looked from Ron to Hermione as he asked, unwilling to assume which of them had been more likely to set Voldemort alight.

The fire coming from Voldemort flared orange and blue. It was rising higher, and the spiny vines seemed attracted to it, or Voldemort, because they'd wrapped up his right arm and leg completely and seemed to be heading slowly for the rest of him. 

"No, mate, we didn't!" Ron's voice quieted as he turned to his girlfriend and asked, "Hermione, you didn't, right?"

The cave was getting hotter. The four of them backed away from the fire. 

"Nothing but keep my wand on him, just in case." She squeezed Ron's waist and rested her head on Ron's chest, her eyes closed. 

Ron spoke again. "No, Harry. Neither of us did anything to him. I was too busy making sure Hermione was all right."

Hermione's voice held hesitation and a tinge of wonder. "And I was checking to make sure Ron was all right…."

"Of course," Harry interrupted witlessly. Hermione opened her eyes to glare at him. She was still squeezing Ron's waist. "Draco and I were doing the same thing." 

The fire crackled loudly, and part of Voldemort's robes finished turning to ash. Nagini caught fire, probably from proximity to the burning corpse. The spiny vines had now snared her as well, and looked as though they would themselves catch fire any minute.

"Did you _say_ anything that could have set the fire? Something, I don't know…" Ron trailed off uncertainly.

"Maybe something to do with the prophecy?" Hermione asked, a spark of interest in her eye. They backed away from the fire again, toward the fresh air coming from the closest entrance to the sunlit morning outside.

"Maybe?" Harry knew he sounded completely stupid.

"What bloody prophecy, Potter?" The flames grew higher again.

Harry turned to Draco and looked at him, more grateful than he could believe or express that they were all alive and unharmed. "I'll tell you later, Draco."

"You sure as hell will, Harry. No more secrets!" Hands on hips, Draco looked completely indignant, and completely gay. 

Harry smiled, but he was so relieved that he didn't even have to try not to laugh. **_My_** _gay lover_ , he thought. _Mine_.

They all heard the pops of Apparition as the room suddenly filled with Aurors. Harry was relieved to see the friendly faces of both Tonks and Kingsley even as he wondered how the hell everyone had known how to find him. 

"The _Smiths_!" Draco and Hermione blurted, looking one another in the eye. 

Ron and Harry cackled. Everything was going to be all right. 

The teens all looked at each other in giddy amusement as the Aurors stared with blatant astonishment at the burning remains of Voldemort and Nagini's corpses, still mostly identifiable.

Kingsley and an Auror Harry didn't recognize began to approach them. Harry knew they would have hours worth of questioning ahead, and he wasn't sure he was up for it. He had a lot of unanswered questions himself. Who was going to answer _his_ questions, he wondered.

All at once the coiled spiny vines strangling Voldemort and Nagini's corpses blazed up, as though intentionally. The fire flared very high, then died back. Everyone jumped away, toward the walls, and shouts of _Protego_ rang from every corner. The remains were now almost completely destroyed.

************************

Later that night, horcruxes and prophecy explained, Harry and Draco lay in bed. Arguing.

"I think it was the ability to admit when I was wrong." Harry lay back. He was safe in his and Draco's bed. The war was over; he'd gotten the Aurors and then the press off his back, and the Weasleys out of his house, and now he and his lover were finally alone. "I'm quite sure that's a power Voldemort 'knew not.'"

"No, Potter, I think it was love." Draco was up on one elbow, playing with Harry's six chest hairs again. Harry decided to count them again soon. He thought there might be seven now. Possibly eight. "I'm quite certain he didn't know anything about love, and it is very powerful."

Harry stroked a hand down Draco's naked back as he considered this idea. "Definitely. Dumbledore seemed to think so. But he wasn't always right, and he was positively _awful_ about holding back information. I think it could have been remorse, you know? Or empathy? Maybe? Or fearing and caring for another person? But that's love, really. Isn't it?"

He paused to run his fingers through Draco's hair. It was so silky. Harry never wanted to stop touching it. "I still think it was being able to admit I was wrong though, actually."

"Harry?" Draco pressed his hand into Harry's warm skin.

"Yeah?" he turned to look into Draco's eyes and smiled at the open affection he saw there.

"Shut up and kiss me." 

_Finis_

**Author's Note:**

> [Original 2007] Author's notes for Whirlwind. Please pardon my tone. I should probably have gone to bed. I wrote this instead.
> 
>  
> 
> This series began when I wrote a one shot, and I got a couple of requests for continuation/explanation/elaboration. And so, 1,300 words became 18,500, a one shot became ten chapters, and the original name became _completely wrong_. So, this is the Personal Dungeon series as it has always been, but now it has a better, more descriptive name. (NEW and IMPROVED!)
> 
> I am aware that this story ends with Voldemort destroyed but one horcrux still intact. I am of the opinion that if Voldemort could be rendered bodiless and helpless on Halloween 1981 with seven horcruxes still intact, then he could be laid low that way twice. The Ravenclaw horcrux could be destroyed afterwards, when Harry and his friends didn't have Voldemort and his Death Eaters chasing them down and trying to kill them. Once the Ravenclaw horcrux (which I rather envisioned as a letter opener) was gone, Voldemort would be permanently gone, as well.
> 
> The title of chapter nine is a reference to Cole Porter's completely fabulous and perfect ditty "You're The Top." Mr. Porter was either homosexual or bisexual, and that title means exactly what you (you cute little slasher you) think it means. (Unless you are into D/s or BDSM, in which case think on the slashier side for this one.)
> 
> The title of chapter ten is not intended as a reference to the Pitt/Jolie movie, unless you thought it funny or clever. In that case, I did it on purpose. ;)
> 
> I was thinking that the sentient spiny vines wrapped Voldemort and Nagini up as revenge. Plants do not appreciate being forced to guard evil objects, in complete lack of natural light, for decades. It really makes them angry. ;)
> 
> The Butthole Surfers are a real band. Check the wiki if you don't believe me, little girl. ;)
> 
> And, just in case people don't want to know, my answer to why Voldemort caught on fire in this fic is down a little ways. Hopefully you'll have to page down to see it, so you won't see it unless you want to.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I wanted to get rid of Voldemort in a way that fulfilled the prophecy (as I interpret it, anyway), but was new and different. I decided that the power that old Moldymort didn't know could certainly be the ability to admit one was wrong. I mean, seriously. How many times did the Dark Lord mess up, yet absolutely refuse to admit any personal responsibility? So when Harry tells Draco that he might have been wrong to keep information from Draco, Voldemort caught fire. However, the fire spiked and flared a few times for purely natural reasons, like hitting a pocket of flammable material. Like Voldemort's robes or wand, for example.


End file.
